


sunlight on my fingertips (dazzling)

by bloomings



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, Angst, Idols, Late at Night, M/M, Magical Realism, Near Death Experiences, Post-Break Up, Pre-Idol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomings/pseuds/bloomings
Summary: 1. yonghoon/geonhak— There’s an ache over his body, tendrils of pain in places he remembers being bruised, broken, collided with.2. yonghoon/kanghyun— The message stops and Hyungu hesitates.  Nothing is really stopping him from deleting the message but the screen goes dark and Hyungu lets it go.3. dongju/kanghyun— He follows the head of ash gray hair go through the aisles, stopping at the snack aisle.It must be another college kid, he thinks, idly plays with the squishy toy he had gotten from one of the branded surprise toys they sell along with their snacks.
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kim Geonhak | Leedo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. small miracles

His fingers rip through the air in front of him, until his whole arm it’s eaten by the gash and his body stumbles forward. The sky overhead is darker, a steely gray, snowflakes dusting when he opens his eyes. Someone bumps into him, and then someone else, and soon he’s jostled into moving, down the familiar street, crowded with people.

There’s an ache over his body, tendrils of pain in places he remembers being bruised, broken, collided with.

He reaches for his cheek, expecting the rough feeling of scraped skin, the hot slickness of blood.

He meets nothing but untouched skin. Geonhak swallows nervously, reaches for his phone, looks at his reflection in the black screen, face free of any cuts, scrapes. He keeps walking, looks down as he shifts his bookbag over his shoulder, lowers his baseball cap over his eyes. His heart skips beats, brain echoing with a memory, close enough for him to know it exists but too distant, more of a feeling than anything else.

Then it feels like everything slams into him. There’s fingers around his wrist, the harsh tug of someone desperately pulling him in. He lands against someone’s chest, back into the sidewalk as a bus passes by, as if Geonhak was never in his way.

It’s anticlimactic, _mundane_ , hearing the blaring horn of the bus, watching as people barely spare him a glance, pushing on to their destination.

“Hey, are you ok?” the man holding his wrist asks, Geonhak’s eyes go to him, blinking at the wide easy smile the other gives him.

“I’m not an angel,” the man says, laughs when Geonhak doesn't answer him, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Geonhak doesn’t say anything and it must be worrying, the stranger’s smile fades and suddenly there’s a frown between his eyes.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” he asks, fixing his own bag, “maybe you need something sweet to help with your nerves.”

-

His drink is more syrup than anything else. Geonhak sits at the little seating area set up outside, away from the curb. It's cold, he's shivering, but it also means no one is out there with them.

Yonghoon had paid for both their drinks, guiding him towards the chairs in the open area out back.

“Are you ok?” he asks again and the annoying feeling of knowing what’s going to happen, what’s _supposed_ to happen is starting to fade.

“Yeah,” he says, voice gravelly with his prolonged silence, “thanks for pulling me back.”

Yonghoon smiles at him, Geonhak marvels at how easy smiles come to the other, his own mouth settling into more of a twist of lips.

“Just pay attention next time,” Yonghoon says, takes a sip of his own iced coffee, “you could have gotten extremely hurt.”

There’s a last nagging feeling at those words, his body aching again before Geonhak leans forward, takes a sip of his drink again.

“Thank you, really,” he says, clearing his throat, “for the bus thing and this drink.”   
Yonghoon looks at him, eyes flickering at his bag, analyzing. Geonhak asks before Yonghoon gets a chance to.

“So are you a trainee or something?” he asks, eyes beckoning at the duffel bag Yonghoon’s dropped on the floor.

Yonghoon laughs at him, it’s abrupt and loud, and Geonhak knows that if anyone else was around them they would have stopped and looked at them.

“No,” Yonghoon says, pauses, leans his cheek into the palm of his hand, “I go to school.”

“Ah,” Geonhak doesn’t know how else to answer, “It’s just the way you look…”

“Huh, I actually thought you were one,” Yonghoon smiles at him, interrupts him, “with your cap and bookbag and all that.”

“Oh,” Geonhak clears his throat, “no, I mean not _anymore_ , now I’m just doing part time jobs, you know.”

Yonghoon doesn’t say anything for a second, takes a sip of his drink, “Surely, after a near death experience, idol life deserves another shot,” he chuckles, amused at himself.

Geonhak goes still, reaching again for where he would have sworn there would have been broken skin over his cheeks.

“Maybe,” he says softly, looking at the way the ice has started to melt in his drink.

“One day I’ll turn on my tv and you’ll be on one of those music shows,” Yonghoon says. 

If Geonhak lets himself, it almost sounds like a promise.


	2. if

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The message stops and Hyungu hesitates. Nothing is really stopping him from deleting the message but the screen goes dark and Hyungu lets it go.

There’s a voicemail from an unknown number. Hyungu’s fingers hover over it, wonders if it’s a spam call, a pre-record message from a company that somehow has gotten his name.

He hums to himself, clicks on the message, presses the phone to his ear. There’s the sound of shuffling and then the intake of a breath.

_ Hyungu-ah...it’s me Yonghoon.  _

There’s a sigh before the message keeps going.

_ I uh, I thought about you today...you didn’t answer you must still be mad at me. _

Hyungu wills himself to listen to the whole thing, no matter how much he wants to stop it, delete it from his phone like he had done with Yonghoon’s phone number.

_ Is it weird if I say I miss you. It’s been what? Months? I’m not - I’m not drunk. _

Yonghoon laughs, goes quiet, voice gone hushed as he keeps talking.

_ I just think about you a lot...I know you know that. Ah I have to go, it’s almost time to get going. Uh...bye, I guess. _

The message stops and Hyungu hesitates. Nothing is really stopping him from deleting the message but the screen goes dark and Hyungu lets it go, reaching over for his laptop, pulling it towards him. 

He searches for the other on Naver, the latest video a performance of his newest song.

A break up song if Hyungu has ever heard one. But it feels strange knowing who the song is really about.

Thinking about how Yonghoon had probably spent way too many late nights writing the lyrics, constructing the melody, arranging the sounds just how he thought they were meant to be.

The stage is set up as a typical ballad stage, lights twinkling like stars, Yonghoon sitting.

But Yonghoon’s expression is pained, like the night Hyungu had walked into his apartment. 

Half out of his coat as he had pushed the words out of his mouth.

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Yonghoon’s face had crumpled, as easily as he had been giving Hyungu a smile. Devastation clear in his expression, the way his shoulders had gone taut in defense.

“You don’t mean that,” Yonghoon’s voice had sounded strained, Hyungu had forgotten how easy it was for the oldest to cry, “you’re just playing around, right?”

Hyungu had felt stupid, still in his coat, barely inside the apartment. Yonghoon had bought them food from Hyungu’s favorite place, always eager to indulge him.

“I’m serious,” he had pushed through, “I want to break up.”

Yonghoon had looked away from him, face dropping. But Hyung knew, could hear it in his voice, watery, choked off.

“Why,” Yonghoon had asked, and Hyungu had a million reasons but none of them sounded good enough to him.

“Yonghoon,” he sighed, “ _ hyung _ .”

He hoped that was enough of an answer but Yonghoon’s eyes looked at him again, glistening, “Why,” he repeated.

“You’re debuting,” Hyungu simply said, and it feels like it all spills over, like Hyungu had to give every single reason why, prove himself.

“You’re debuting under this big company to so many fans already, who have waited for you, for years, who are ready to buy anything and everything you tell them to. Fans who want the fantasy, want to pretend you could fall in love with them.”

The words sounded weak to him, there had been a sniffle coming from Yonghoon but nothing else, no reply. Hyungu kept talking.

“They’ve sunk so much money on this. The projections, the long term plans. Yonghoon _you’re it_. You’re their next big thing...you can’t have that and have me too.”

“I want to be selfish,” Yonghoon had whispered at him, “Hyungu, please.”

-

Yonghoon’s debut had been as successful as all the company meetings had said it would be. A summer hit that had coasted fairly high on the charts for a newly debuted rookie. Gone viral, putting him in almost any shop Hyungu had walked into.

Hyungu had erased Yonghoon’s number the same day he had received a check, for one of the songs on Yonghoon’s debut album. The company logo had stared at him, urging him to do it, forget everything Yonghoon.

Now, with his new ballad, a winter release. 

He clicks on the new performance, watches as the camera pans closer to Yonghoon. The banner under him reads  _ IF - Jin Yonghoon _ . 

_ Don’t think your words will sway me _ , Yonghoon sings, voice clear, as beautiful as Yonghoon has always been.

His expression is as sad as it had been on that night, and a selfish part of Hyungu likes that it’s about him.

-

It’s two weeks later when he gets a text message, from an unknown number, he opens it before he thinks much of it.

_ happy birthday hyungu-ah. _

He knows who it is, the numbers now etched in his brain from how long he’s started at them in his voicemail.

Yonghoon's fans all over social media are talking about him having a schedule, and again Hyungu feels strange knowing Yonghoon took time to send him something, even after all Hyungu has done.

_ thank you _ , he replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [oneweveluv](https://twitter.com/oneweveluv) reply of _Kh x yh: if_ :)


	3. purple flavored chewy gum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He follows the head of ash gray hair go through the aisles, stopping at the snack aisle. It must be another college kid, he thinks, idly plays with the squishy toy he had gotten from one of the branded surprise toys they sell along with their snacks. He presses his finger into it, watching as the jelly body gives way under the weight of it, sticking slightly to his fingertip before he flicks it off.
> 
> The song playing on the store speaker’s changes to a new one, a song from some new artist Hyungu has started to hear more and more in other stores. 

Hyungu doesn’t see a lot of people around this time. Being a 24 hour convenience store in a city full of them means that business is never really something consistent. He tends to get kids from the local college, usually at some weird time, trailing in for a snack, a can of coffee. 

The little electronic bell rings when he gets someone in the shop. The time on the cash register reads  _ 2:17 am _ .

He follows the head of ash gray hair go through the aisles, stopping at the snack aisle. _It must be another college kid_ , he thinks, idly plays with the squishy toy he had gotten from one of the branded surprise toys they sell along with their snacks. He presses his finger into it, watching as the jelly body gives way under the weight of it, sticking slightly to his fingertip before he flicks it off.

The song playing on the store speaker’s changes to a new one, a song from some new artist Hyungu has started to hear more and more in other stores. He can’t place their names but recognizes the song, hums a bit to it.

The boy from earlier finally makes himself known, big eyes looking at Hyungu curiously. Hyungu looks at him, caught off guard with how _attractive_ he is, the birthmark right under his eye, the curving line of his eyelashes. 

“Just this,” the boy says, placing a pack of gum in bright purple wrapping. There’s grapes on it, Hyungu thinks dumbly, scanning the gum.

“Do you like this song?” the boy asks and Hyungu takes an embarrassingly long time to answer, brain caught up in reading the price correctly.

“What?” he croaks out, fingers gripping the pack of gum too tight.

“This song,” the boy starts again, small smile on his lips, “do you like it?”

Hyungu nods, tuning back to the song he had been humming to before, “sure,” he says, “it’s playing a lot in stores now.”

Hyungu slides the gum back at him, reads the price. The boy gives him a card, he feeds it into the reader, watches as the other rips the pack open, peeling a piece of gum, popping it to his mouth. The smell of artificial grape, something sharp and wintry reaches Hyungu, when his eyes trail up to the other boy he gets a glimpse of his tongue, already purple from the candy.

“Thank you,” Hyungu says, out of habit. The boy blows a bubble, lets it pop as he puts the card back in his wallet.

“Thanks,” he says, “here.”

Hyungu looks as the boy drops some pieces of gum into the counter, the smell of grape stronger, “sugar rush,” he explains.

Hyungu doesn’t say anything, expects the other to leave. But he’s still there. The question must be obvious on his face, the other stops chewing his gum loudly.

“Waiting for the song to be over,” he says, showing his phone, Hyungu realizes he’s been recording.

“You can just search up the song, you know,” Hyungu says, trying to be helpful.

“I know,” he gets as an answer, shrugging, “I just wanted the hyung to hear our song playing at a store at 2 am.”

“Oh,” Hyungu says, unable to think of anything else to say, fingers digging into his palms, where he has the pieces of gum the other have given him.

The song finishes and the other boy smiles at him, wide, happy, “Thanks for letting me stay and record,” he says, he flashes his phone, Hyungu can see it open to a group chat.

He turns to leave and Hyungu feels like he should at least ask his name, be able to tell his friends just which idol he’s met.

But the boy turns back to look at him, hand already at the door, “See you around, Hyungu.”

His eyes flicker to his name tag and then he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [azcasky](https://twitter.com/azcasky) reply of _Kanghyn / Dngju : purple flavored chewy gum_ :)

**Author's Note:**

> ~~i just think a lot about making things blah~~
> 
> for [cshine97](https://twitter.com/cshine97) reply of _Yonghoon X Geonhak : small miracles_ :)


End file.
